An Angel in Hell
by whitefirewolf09
Summary: "Hermione tried to check her composure, but found that she could not calm herself. She heard a click on the other side of the door and watched as the doorknob turned. The person… No not person… The thing that came through that was the last person she ever expected to show up. Voldemort." First four chapters slightly edited
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Okay. So here is the first chapter of An Angel in Hell.  
****I know that I've been lacking in the updating department... A lot of stuff has happened in my life within the last year of me updating. But I'm going to try my damned hardest to keep this story going. Thanks to one particular reader Porrie13 who messaged me and begged me to not stop my story, it gave me that extra motivation to keep going, since I had been thinking about it since my last update a little over a year ago. I don't want to let down the people who read this and who would want it to continue.  
****The first four chapters that have been up for quite some time have been fixed and edited a slightly revamped. So I really hope you take the time to refresh yourselves and reread over these.**

**For those of you who are here for the first time, I really hope you enjoy it. Thank you all so much.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or its characters. That all belongs to the wonderful mind of JK Rowling.**

CH. 1

Pain. Unbearable pain coursed throughout Hermione's body as Bellatrix Lestrange cut down the length of her arm. "How did you get into my vault! HOW DID YOU DO IT?" Bellatrix screamed at her, blood lust in her eyes.

"We were never in your vault..." Hermione whimpered and felt the dagger cut into her side.

"LIES! You filthy mud-blood!" Bellatrix spat at her and slapped her hard across the face. "TELL ME THE TRUTH! I KNOW YOU'RE LYING! Where did you get this sword? _WHERE?_" Bellatrix cut into her side, blood seeping from all over Hermione's body.

"We found it – we found it – PLEASE! Please stop!" She screamed as Bellatrix sliced into her wrist and Hermione sobbed. She could hear Ron screaming for her, but it was useless.

"I know you're lying! What else did you take? What else have you got? Tell me or I swear, I shall run you through with this knife!" Her eyes were mad and Hermione sobbed again.

"We haven't got anything – Please. Sto-"

"STOP LYING MUDBLOOD! _CRUCIO!_" Hermione screamed out as her mind screeched and her eyes throbbed. She tried desperately to make the pain stop, but nothing would work. Finally, Bellatrix lifted the curse as she stood over Hermione's body. "NOW TELL ME!"

"I'm telling you, we found it! I-it's a fake… It's probably a fake."

"A fake?" Bellatrix stabbed into Hermione's leg, who let out another horrified scream and blacked out for few moments.

When she came to, a goblin was there with them inspecting the sword. He revealed that it was indeed a fake, and a look of relief swept across Bellatrix's face. She then attacked the goblin, striking him across the face with a harsh sneer. Slowly, she stood to full height as a twisted smile crept across her lips and proclaimed that it was time to call "The Dark Lord."

Hermione blacked out once again, the last thing she remembered was Ron bursting into the room…

She heard faint voices and then fighting, until it all blurred together. She heard a dark, haunting voice say, "I will take her… Go after those fools that dared escape." Hermione felt herself sort of float in the air, being carried away.

When Hermione awoke, she sat up from the hard bed that she had been laying on. Looking around the place, the Victorian furnishings added an austere feel to the room. However, the draperies had long since tattered, moth eaten holes gaping through. The wooden furnishings seemed nearly rotten, the dust settling on their flat surfaces. The spiders had long ago made their homes in the dark recesses of the wooden paneling on the walls.

Her wounds had been healed and she wondered who had done it. Panic flooded through her as she realized she did not recognize the room she was in and got up to ran to the door; it was locked. She reached for her wand, but it was no longer on her person.

Hermione tried to check her composure, but found that she could not calm herself. She heard a click on the other side of the door and watched as the doorknob turned. The person… No not person… The thing that came through that was the last person she ever expected to show up.

Voldemort.

He smiled cruelly at her as she backed away, taking pleasure from her fear of him. "Why am I here? What have you done to me?"

"Do not speak before given permisson, Mudblood!" He snapped and glided over to her. "You should be thanking The Dark Lord, for He has healed your wounds." Voldemort sniffed at her and turned away, leaving the room and slamming the door behind him.

She ran to it, but it had been locked again. Her body shook violently as the knowledge of where she was sank in. She slowly lowered onto the floor in front of the door, staring at the chipped wood. Why had he come in here? Where were Ronald and Harry? She hoped that they were safe.


	2. Chapter 2

CH. 2

After a few hours of sitting on the bed waiting for her death and trying to plot against it, the door clicked open again. Bellatrix stood in the doorway smiling at her, a crazed look in her eyes. "Mudblood! Come here!" Bellatrix screamed at Hermione. Bellatrix's eyes looked crazed as she held out her crooked wand at her.

Hermione glared at her and shook her head, wanting so badly to claw her eyes out. Bellatrix's smile faltered a little, but then she cackled and flew across the room, grabbing Hermione by the hair and pulling her head back to expose her neck. "Such a pity that your wounds were healed. I rather liked them." Bellatrix cooed at her as she ran a finger down Hermione's neck, which sent chills down her spine. "My master wants to see you…"

Dragging Hermione from the room by her hair, Bellatrix took them through the large house and into a room that looked much like a meeting room. In the room sat a large rectangular table that many men dressed in black tattered robes and skull masks sat around it. At the head of the table sat Lord Voldemort.

Bellatrix bowed deeply and smiled while yanking Hermione in front of her by her hair. "I brought the dirty blooded girl, Master. Just like you asked." Such fear, yet admiration shone in Bellatrix's eyes as she stared at Voldemort. Hermione tried her best took look brave and stand her ground; she had to find out if they also had Harry and Ron.

Voldemort stood up and stared at her, which made her heart race, but she stared him in the eyes, and showed no fear. He motioned for her to come over to her, and when she did not move Bellatrix shoved her towards him. "DO AS THE DARK LORD TELLS YOU TO DO!" She screeched.

Hermione took a step over to him and stayed silent. He stared at Hermione curiously and raised his hand right before Bellatrix brought hers down across Hermione's face. She stopped dead in her tracks and stepped back, clearly understanding that Voldemort wanted no harm done to her yet. Staring at her for another silent moment, the whole room tense, he finally spoke. "Now tell me, young Mudblood… Where is the Potter boy?"

She stood there as it registered into her mind, and then relief flooded through her. They didn't have Harry! What about Ron? She looked up at him defiantly and shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. I'm here with you. I would have no knowledge of where they went."

Voldemort narrowed his eyes at her and leaned toward her, the Death Eaters clearly expecting him to kill her now or at the very least strike her for her defiant mouth. She waited for it, but he only stared at her. She stared back, transfixed in his eyes and took a step closer. He looked away and as his eyes were torn from hers, she realized what she was doing and froze.

"Get her out of my sight." Voldemort snapped, and in that instant Bellatrix strode over to her and grabbed her again by her thick brown hair. She pulled her all the way back to the room she had been staying in and threw her inside, locking the door.

She walked to the door and pressed her ear to it, but after a moment of silence she stumbled towards the bed and sank down, the bed groaning at her weight as she burred her face into her hands. As terrified as she was about her predicament, she was extremely relieved to find out that Voldemort had not captured Harry; she just had to find out about Ronald. She prayed silently, hoping that they were, in fact, okay.

There was no window inside the room, which meant she had no idea what time of the day it was. It felt like she had been sitting inside that depressing room for days, and for all she knew, she could have been.

Her stomach growled viciously, and she realized for the first time that she was hungry. She probably hadn't eaten a good meal in a few days. With her stomach angrily protesting at her and wondering how come it had not been filled in so long, she stood up and walking around the room. She touched the wall gingerly and sighed, pressing her forehead to the paneled wall. The wallpaper looked water damaged and in some placed was peeling and shriveled.

The door clicked and slowly creaked open. Hermione stood, looked up, and waited for someone to walk in, maybe hit or kill her and finish her off. She waited and watched, but no one came in. Slowly and cautiously, she walked towards the door and saw that not a single being occupied the hallway beyond the door. She took a few steps back, knowing that as temping as it was to make a run for it, it would be very unwise. She felt like she was being tested; caged and watched like a lab rat.

Walking backwards to the bed, she sat down on the edge, waiting and staring at the door. After what felt like hours, a long snake came glided into the room and stared up at Hermione. It sent chills down her spine; she never really fancied snakes. Its long body slithered over to her bed and raised its head up. It blinked, she tensed; waiting for it to strike at her, but to her surprise it lowered back down and silently left the room. The door mysteriously closed behind it.


	3. Chapter 3

Ch. 3

The incident with the snake haunted her; it gave her the strangest feeling that it wasn't just the snake watching her. She lay down on the bed, closed her eyes and then instantly remembered where she had seen that snake. She couldn't believe that she didn't recognize her to begin with. It had been Nagini; Voldemort's pet that did his biddings.

She clutched at her stomach that pained with emptiness and rolled over. So were they going to starve her to death? She sighed and turned over, and on the small table in the corner of the room sat a good-sized portion of roast beef, along with peas and potatoes with gravy. She couldn't believe it and began to think herself mad, but the smell was wonderful. Just as she was beginning to think that she shouldn't touch it, a silver goblet of red wine appeared out of nowhere.

Standing up and walking over to the food she examined it. There was no way for her to check if it was poisoned, but she figured that if they wanted to kill her just yet, they'd savor it and not stoop so low as to poison her. Bellatrix did seem to enjoy torture…

She grabbed the fork that lay beside the plate and began to eat, savoring the flavor. She hadn't realized she had been _this_ hungry.

As she finished, her belly full, she turned around and nearly screamed. Voldemort was standing in the corner of the room, examining her, the shadows hiding most of his face. She backed up into the wall and he smiled at this, feeding off of her fear. He walked over to her slowly, walking with such prestige and grace. He stopped right before her, towering over her body. She felt weak and helpless next to this monster of a man.

"Why haven't you killed me yet?" Hermione asked, looking up at him, her heart racing as she stood transfixed by his eyes once more.

"Did I speak to you?" He growled. He wanted to kill her for the filthy blood that she had, but he needed her for now. He'd lure Harry out with her. "I have not killed you, because you are a pawn that I need." He gave a twisted smile and stepped back. With a loud pop and a burst of filmy black mist, he was gone.

That night, her dreams were filled with visions of snakes and Death Eaters: Visions of Harry and Ronald dead before her, and visions of Voldemort's wicked grin.

Harry's body was covered in blood, his face swollen and his glasses cracked. Ronald lay beside him, not looking much better.

Images of torture and death haunted every corner of her dreams as Bellatrix danced around her suffering body…

That morning (or at least what she thought was morning) she awoke with a start, drenched in cold sweat. She shivered and sat up, clutched her head and looked around. She was still in that damned room. That hadn't been just a dream.

Curling her knees up to her chest, she looked up at the ceiling, hoping that Harry and Ron were safe. Maybe they had even found another Horcrux.

Ronald paced up and down the room of the small cottage of Bill and Fluer's. He groaned and looked over at Harry, who sat on the hard floral couch, looking rather in a daze.

"What are we going to do, Harry? Without her… Without her… We're practically lost. We don't know how to do all the little cleaver things she does." Ron paced back and forth and groaned again, his knuckles turning white as he held his hands into tight fists.

Harry shrugged. "I- I don't know, but we have to try— Don't look at me like that. You know we do." Harry said as Ron gave him a horrified stare. "I want to go save her just as much as you do, but if we can get to the other Horcrux first, then we can defeat him. Maybe she escaped already… She's very smart."

Fluer walked in and they stopped talking, an awkward silence stretching through the air. "How are we 'eeling?" She asked softly while she glanced over at Griphook, who was snoozing on the couch.

"We're fine, Fluer… We'll probably be gone soon. We have to finish doing our… our job." Harry said, and felt instantly guilty about it. His mind raced back to Hermione. They hadn't been fast enough to get to her. Voldemort had shown up and grabbed her right as the Death Eaters tried to get to him and Ron. It made him feel like a cowered that they had to run, but if they hadn't, this war would never end. Voldemort would become all-powerful.

He hated the feeling of having the whole Wizarding World on his shoulders. He wanted to save his best friend, but he couldn't. Not yet. Not without possibly getting himself killed and captured in the process and all hope would be lost. He fought the urge to punch a wall.

Fluer watched as many emotions of anger and depression flashed over Harry's face and looked at Ron, who was near on the verge of tears, though he'd never admit it.

"You two 'ould stay eer. Eet's zafer…" She sighed, knowing that they wouldn't listen, and exactly as she thought, Harry shook his head.

"We can't do that. We need to finish our task. It's the only way." He looked over at Ron who was still pacing.

"Vell… Okay." She placed a plate of sandwiches that she had had in her hands on the table, and then backed out of the room. She worried about the two of them, and wondered what had happened to the girl that was usually with them.

Ron turned to Harry and gave him a look of desperation and whispered, "Harry… We have to save her. I couldn't… Nothing can happen to her. She's always been there for us. We have to…" He turned and looked out the window.

Harry knew. They'd get the rest of the Horcruxes before it was to late. Harry barely heard it, and wondered if he actually did, but swore he heard Ron's detached voice whisper, "We're comin' for you, Hermione. Just hold on… Don't leave me."


	4. Chapter 4

Ch. 4

Hermione sat on the bed, her knees drawn up to her chest as her chin rested atop them. She sighed and tried to keep her mind away from this place; this room.

Just as she began to slip into a sort of numbed state of mind, the door burst open, causing her to nearly jump out of her skin. Bellatrix drove in and grabbed Hermione by the hair once more; her scalp screaming in protest, having not completely healing from the previous abuse.

"Hello there, Mudblood. It's been a while." She grinned down at Hermione, her eyes crazed as usual and her hair askew. "My master requires you once more. Such a shame though," Bellatrix ran her long nail down Hermione's face and over her collarbone, "I'd like to play with you again."

Hermione looked up at Bellatrix and almost came back with a retort, but stopped herself short and bit her tongue. Bellatrix dragged her out of the room and instead of going down the staircase this time; Hermione was being led up multiple flights of stairs.

Soon, Bellatrix stopped at a door and without even knocking a deep voice called from it. "Come in." That voice sent chills through Hermione's body, but the same voice set a smile upon Bellatrix's thin cracked lips. With his command, Bellatrix opened the splintered wooden door and dragged her in, shoving her to the ground.

Hermione looked up, her hair hanging in her face and saw before her, the man that had been in her room the day before. He sat in a wooden chair and nodded at Bellatrix and with a quiet yet cold voice he said, "You can go now." She looked disappointed, but didn't argue. Bellatrix bowed respectfully to him and backed out of the room, glaring at the girl that she had thrown into the wolf's den.

Voldemort eyed down at her and pulled his wand out. "Now… It's respectful to stand and greet your caretaker." He flicked his wand at her as her body thrust into the air, her toes barely touching the floor. With a cold sneer, he looked her up and down. "That's better. Now. Miss – Granger was it? Yes. Miss Granger, are you going to help me out?"

Hermione struggled to keep her toes on the ground and hated the way his icy chuckles rang off of the walls. She watched helplessly as he stood up and glided over to her like a shadow. He was disgusting. His sickly grey skin decorated with feint blue veins and long dirty fingernails attached to long boney fingers, curled around his wand that pointed at her.

Hermione wrinkled her nose at him in disgust. "I'll never help you…" She hissed and struggled to breath, as the charm that held her up seemed to grow tightly around her neck.

Voldemort sneered at her and shook his head. "I don't think you understand, filth. You don't have a choice, and the sooner you understand this, the longer you will live."

She growled at him and spit in his direction, only nearly missing him where he stood. Suddenly, the charm grew even tighter and her vision began to flicker in and out.

Finally, after gasping and clawing at her neck to breath, Voldemort lowered his wand, which sent Hermione's body into a limp pile on the floor. Chuckling, Voldemort walked over to her and kneeled down, taking her face in his hand and forcing her to look up at him. "You will learn. You disgusting Mudblood." His voice was chilly and quiet as his crimson eyes pierced into her, making her body shiver.

"I will do no such thing. I'd rather die then betray my friends. You've got the wrong person for this job, because I will tell you nothing." She panted in between every few words, her neck slightly throbbing.

Voldemort jerked her head back, baring her neck and ran a long fingernail down the pale thin skin. "Such a pity." He said quietly, almost to himself. "That such filthy blood inhabits this body." Shaking his head, he let go of her, thrusting her to the ground as her head hit the wooden floor with a thud. She sucked in a breath and squeezed her eyes shut trying to numb the pain, which did quickly subside.

Voldemort walked away from her crumpled body and smirked to himself; reeling over things he could do to her to possibly break her. He quivered lightly with the thoughts and turned back to face her, his eyes raking over her body. "Stand up." He commanded, and when Hermione did not, he flicked his wand at her. "I said, stand up!" Her body quickly jolting her up onto her feet and a pained groan escaped her lips.

"That's better." His lips curved up in a twisted sort of smile. "Now. Come closer." As he said this, the tips of her toes slid against the ground as her body floated towards him.

Hermione felt the presser around her neck slack and then release as she fell back to the ground. "Now, Filth. Am I going to have to force the information out of you, or are you going to go along nicely?" Voldemort glowered down at her, his gaze as sharp as that of a snake eyeing it's prey, and Hermione knew the situation was just that, a snake and his prey.

"I will never give in to you! You don't scare me!" She spat at him and stumbled to her feet, her body trembling slightly.

Voldemort shook his head slowly, and made a soft clucking noise with his tongue. "Soon you will learn you filthy mudblood, that bravery will get you no where. Only dead. I suppose… That I shall have to break you." His lips slowly curved into a sinister smile as he eyed her body. "Excellent."

Hermione shivered at the way he looked at her, giving her goose bumps. What did he intend to do? What did he mean by break her? Her body shook slightly from the thoughts that passed through her mind. Bellatrix had been bad, but Voldemort, he was worse. Much worse.

Voldemort flicked his wand and Hermione sprung up once more and hit the wall. She slid across it until she fell onto the large oak desk. She gasped for air and held her ribs as she looked over towards the tall, lean, shadowy figure. Her eyes were still determined to fight through this and Voldemort was just as determined to watch that Gryffindor spirit break.

He glided over to her and ran the tip of his wand over her arm. Slowly, a sharp pain began to slice through her arm from where it had touched her, blood oozing from the gash. She knew he was toying with her right now. He knew that she could withstand such childish torture, but he was going to enjoy this. She felt like the butterfly that a child slowly tore apart its appendages.

"It looks normal enough. Doesn't look dirty at all." He smirked as he ran a cold white finger over the gash, smearing her blood over her arm as it dripped to the floor. "But we both know that's just a lie. Don't we, Filth?"

Hermione lay quietly on the desk as he cut into her. She was determined to not make a sound, for it would only give him satisfaction. She knew that if she cried or whimpered he would feel a sense of accomplishment, and she wasn't going to give him such encouragement.

If she stayed quiet long enough, maybe he would grow tired and kill her. She could only hope for mercy.

Voldemort leaned in and smelled her hair, which smelled richly of campfire and forest. So they had been camping? That was indeed a start, but not much of a lead at all. As much as he enjoyed his wand, he felt as if he would enjoy this better with the real thing. He flicked his wand again as a large dagger sailed its way across the room to his hand.

He grasped it and smiled down at her. "Now, filth. Beg. Beg for your life. I want to hear you scream." He chuckled a dark throaty laugh and grabbed her hair as Hermione's glossy eyes stared into space. She refused to give in to him. She wouldn't do it. She wasn't a Gryffindor for nothing.

He ran the dagger over her dirty shirt and could hear as the fabric began to tare from the sharpness of the blade. Voldemort burred his face into the crook of her neck and breathed in as her rich womanly scent that filled his senses and quickly he became infuriated. How dare she!

He bit into her skin and heard as Hermione let out a soft gasp. She closed her mouth and shivered, trying to not make a sound. She wouldn't let him win.

Voldemort's eyes flashed with anger and suddenly, he felt like destroying her. He felt like destroying something beautiful, and he had just that. He ran the blade down her toned belly, applying more pressure than before as long crimson ribbons decorated the pale skin and puddled on the desk. She hissed softly from the pain, but tried to stare off into space, ignoring the searing hot pain.

Suddenly and without warning, he grabbed her pants roughly and yanked them off, causing her to gasp loudly and try to retreat, sliding back a bit on the desk, but his grip on her was too strong for her weakened state. "Wh-What are you doing?" She stammered, her eyes finally glossed over with fear.

"Ah. So she finally speaks." Voldemort chuckled deep within his throat and threw her pants across the room. "I told you. I will have you begging for mercy. I want to hear you scream." He ran a finger down her cheek, admiring her beauty for a very short moment, which confused him and irritated him. His hand that lay upon her cheek reeled back and slapped her across the face with such force that she was thrown back against the desk. Hermione whimpered and pushed herself back up into a slouched, sitting position.

Voldemort smirked and ran a hand over her exposed stomach, the deep red pools of blood looking even more extravagant against the contrast of her skin as he smeared it along her body, his hand slipping further and further. He watched delightedly as her face was quickly over taken with fear. His other hand roughly grabbed her left breast, his long nails biting into the tender flesh and she let out a scream. "Get off me!" She cried, tears threatening to spill over. "Get your filthy hands off me!"

"Oh. But it is you who is the filthy one. You should be honoured to be touched by anyone at all." He growled at her and leaned over her body as his other hand grabbed in between her legs. "You should be thanking me."

Hermione tried to back away, but his hold on her was too strong. She wondered why he didn't just bind her down with a spell, but quickly realized that he must enjoy her attempts to flee. He was the very definition of a predator and he was toying with her just as a cat did a mouse before he killed it.

As he leaned over her, his hands in the most private of areas, he looked into her fear filled eyes and for a very brief moment, he felt pain himself and wanted to heal her and just leave her be for now, but that too passed. He would make her scream and cry and he would enjoy it. He would enjoy every whimper that passed her lips and every tear that rolled down her cheek. He didn't understand why those fleeting emotions he had stirred inside him. He didn't understand them at all. They made no sense to his emotionless heart. Out of anger and irritation, he grabbed the dagger and plunged it in between her thighs, which earned him the most pleasing and blood curtailing scream he had ever heard.

Hermione screamed and screamed and screamed until finally her voice cracked and nothing would come out. She couldn't breath and couldn't catch her breath all the same time. What had he done? Why? Why did he do such a thing? Because he was cruel. Because he was heartless.

Suddenly, he leaned back over her and kissed her roughly and deeply, his cold lips encasing hers. He had heard enough of her screaming and decided that he was done with her for now. He got off of her and slowly turned away, leaving her bleeding and in pain on his desk for a moment before waving his wand and healing all of her wounds. He didn't want to scar such a beautiful body.

With that, he left the room. Leaving her lying on the table, sore and in pain.


End file.
